


And if I could give you the moon; I would give you the moon

by whiskeylaceddwords



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambassador Katara (Avatar), Big Brother Sokka (Avatar), Closure, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Minor Aang/Katara, Mutual Pining, Platonic Cuddling, Post-War, Reflective Katara, Soft Zuko (Avatar), Tender Zutara, bonding over scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeylaceddwords/pseuds/whiskeylaceddwords
Summary: Katara and Zuko both process the trauma of war, finding solace in a close bond neither of them had expected. Or; trying to find a place in a fractured world that they didn't break.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Kudos: 25





	And if I could give you the moon; I would give you the moon

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant to be a oneshot that obviously had a bigger story to tell, might become more than 3 parts :) hope you enjoy reading just as much as I did writing

His life was in her hands and hers was in his. Her fingers healed and soothed while his reached out in sacrifice and love. A quick beat of blue and then a horror unfolds, with him writhing on the ground, twitching with shocks. She can still feel it, the pins in her fingers with the electricity in his blood, Zuko being cooked from the inside. It makes her sick still as her hands glow blue; she understands the weight of what he did, how much his heart races when she touches him.

“Why did you do it?” her voice is ragged, rough like the callouses on his palms.

“Because,” he murmurs, “it was always going to be me over you”.

He lays there weak and pale, he looks sickly, with slick skin and hollow temples.

“Why?” she whispers, “why me?”

“Because I owed it to you”, it’s a gentle rasp, settling sharp in the space between them.

Her eyes, they flit to his twisted one, all rough, puckered and angry. It’s the scar that is a permanent reminder of his pain. Then there’s the one on his chest, that’s scabbed over now and raised with blisters.

“It’s a new scar,” she mutters, “you didn’t need another scar”.

“It was worth it,” he says, “because you’re safe”.

She doesn’t stop to be happy for the life that pulses within her, but the thin line of his, spluttered and quick when she lays her hands cool over his chest.

* * *

She is tethered to his side after that, lets him slowly recover but remains stern and routined. Her soft hands slowly melt away the angriness of the wound that tears open his middle into a tender scar. She makes all the edges seal over first, all pale and waxy, aiding the centre to scab over.  
She becomes almost protective over the firebender, clutching him between her hands when a guard comes close, thumbing the fringe of his hair when he breaks out into a sweat. She traces the lines of his face when he rests, but never the puckered skin that is his scar. She doesn’t know what it would mean if she did, its they mystery of how he got it and the few words he’s whispered to her in hours;

“You’re the only one who I’ve let touch it you know”.

It was said when she thought he was asleep, as her fingers smoothed over his torn open middle. Her resting look of tenderness and the soft press against her heart as she looks at the lightning wound, turns into something glazed over, jaded when she remembers the catacombs. The thud of her heart against her rib cage when he mentioned mothers, the hurt she felt when he chose differently, how differently she felt about him now. Things will be different now.

He’s gentler with her, doesn’t hesitate when he touches her or stares through half open eyes when he thinks she’s too concentrated on healing. She learns his face warms up with his smile, that he has callouses on the insides of his palms. She likes it when Zuko smiles with her.

She also likes it when he offers the bed quietly, after hours of her healing his raw wound into a clean scab. He’s probably just started to recover and wants her to rest. She grins at him and his propriety, and how after taking lightning for her, he still puts her first.

“You’re still healing,” she says softly, “I’m fine”.

He grabs her hand, runs his thumb over the back of it. She bites the inside of her cheek, the tip of her nose and cheeks hot.

“You look tired,” he rasps, “come on”.

His voice cracks after staying quiet for so long, after watching her fingers smooth the searing pain into a hot twinge that flared whenever his chest was taut.

“Alright,” she replies tightly.

He pulls back red silken covers and shifts aside. The bed is big enough to fit Appa alone, Zuko shifting as far as he can from her as she slides under the light covers. She lies down and faces him when he stands to stagger to the futon, reaching out to grab him by the forearm. She sits up, smooths her hands up his chest, pulling him down into a hug, a quiet thankyou on her lips. He tilts her head up, thumb rough under her chin, eyes soft. He touches her like she did him under Ba Sing Se.

“Stay,” she says.

“You want me to?”

She nods.

“Are-are you sure?”

“I can’t let you be alone,” she mutters, “not now”.

In reply he slowly slips back into bed, keeping a comfortable space between them, she’s the one who reaches out. Reaches out to touch his scar, cup his left cheek and grin.

“Katara,” he says softly.

The reassuring warmth of him under her fingertips is all she needs then. His blood fills his veins, his breath feeds a small fire that was once put out and for that she is grateful.

* * *

Her heart flutters with his arm around her shoulders, he can stand now, limp from one side of the room to the other. The healer in her is satisfied with the progress, but the girl in her appreciates the warmth of his presence, is happy to hear him laugh and see his wry smiles. She had seen glimpses of this side of him, but this is when she begins to truly know it. She laughs with him when he tries to retell one of his uncle’s jokes over a pot of anti-inflammatory tea. They both take sips from their cups to ease the throbbing of bruised limbs and tired fingers.

“I feel like I haven’t laughed in weeks,” she says.

“You haven’t?” he asks softly.

She shrugs and smiles.

“Not since the Western Air temple,” she mumbles.

“Except now you like me,” he mutters dryly.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, cheeks heating, habitually now, placing a soft hand over the scar over his heart.

“You saved my life,” she speaks gently, “I will always”.

She understands the weight of what the scar means to them both now, after hours of processing it, cherishing it. And that’s why she feels warm and not shocked, when he leans in to kiss her cheek, lips rough against the damp of it. The sweat from the Fire Nation summer collects at her temples, the beating of her heart pulses through her whole body, feeling flushed.

She smiles.

He puts his arm around her when he takes another sip of tea. She can’t tell if Zuko is flushed for the same reason she is or from all the healing he’s had to sit through. In that moment, that one thought is all that matters to her.

Not until later in the night, do they receive the news; that the avatar had taken down the Firelord. All she feels she can do is sit there when he falls silent and dead in the eyes.

* * *

When the others arrive at the palace, within the day they can tell the air had changed between Zuko and Katara. Everyone knew something had happened, something they dare not mention with it’s implied weight. That was until Sokka had a quiet word with his sister, whispering close, Katara more worried about the state of his ankle in bandages than his reaction to what Zuko did for her.

Later within the day, when Zuko staggers out of his bed chambers in the armour that makes her think about when she only knew him by a scar and petulance, Sokka ushers him aside. She notices how the regalia makes Zuko seem older, weighed down by harsh lines and broadened shoulders, rather than the leaner frame of his she’s gotten used to. His light pensivity has turned into that of brooding again under the start of transition to become Firelord, with the stress on his body reversing all the bloodwork she’s put into making his heartbeat stronger. She’s starting to worry about him, but Sokka’s faltering hug that visibly shocks him makes her forget for a while. She smiles at the brief contempt on Zuko’s face, the relief of her brother and the comfort of her friends’ presence. And for this familiarity, this ease she feels, she is thankful, they are a family again if only for a while.

* * *

She had missed the softness of Aang’s eyes, the simplicity of innocence that he bought with him. He is like the clouds, light and everchanging, forever moving like the nomad he is and forever will be. And that is why she knows she can’t go with him when he asks her to.

“You’re leaving?” she asks, “why so soon?”

The air is both humid and crisp atop of the balcony they stand at, the feeling of both the water in the air moving around her and the sharp pulse of her blood against her neck, budding into an ache against her skull.

“I think-“ Aang says, “I think I’m needed in a lot of places”

She nods slow.

“The world is only just starting to heal,” she replies.

And so is she, she thinks to herself, so is everyone else.

“I know, and I’ve come to realise what being the Avatar really means”

She smiles at him, smiles at the mature boy he’s become, so far away from the innocence that he helmed when he awoke for the first time in a hundred years, still twelve years old with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I need to give people hope again”.

“You already have,” she says, she smiles at him, folds her arms over the railing as she looks out to the sky, it’s a blue unlike anywhere else in the world.

“Katara,” he starts, “would you come with me?”

She pauses for a moment, her face falling slightly.

“Aang,” she mutters, “I don’t think that’s what you really want”.

“But I do- why wouldn’t I want you to come with me?” he asks, “you give people hope too, you heal, you care, it’s what they need”.

The ache against her skull somehow seeps into her brain, makes her eyes twitch.

“Well maybe,” she snaps, “I’m tired of being needed by everyone”.

Aang falters a bit, his eyes wide, hurt.

“I’m-“ she says after a moment, “I’m sorry, that was mean. I meant, I think I just need to stay in one place right now, I need some sort of stability”.

“What?” he asks, “stability here?”

She pauses for a moment, purses her lips and tucks her loose hair behind her ears.

“I-“ she starts, “I don’t know, I feel like it needs to be”.

“Why?” he asks.

She stands in thought, looks out to the valleys and towns beneath her.

“I’m so tired Aang,” she says quietly, “I don’t know _where _I’m wanted”.__

____

It’s more of an admission to herself than him, Aang smiles, all bright and buoyant with no burden, no lines and tension along his spine. He is free, seemingly ready for life after the war and she is not. She feels the familiarity of an old spike in her chest, the streak of jealousy she had when he got things easier than she ever could. Airbenders always were better at that; adapting, changing. She knows that he will be okay without her, letting go of this maternal fondness she’s had for him since he woke up again. She thinks he’d even be better off without her; pulling him by the ear, naturally filling in a motherly role she never had herself.

____

She feels the stab of sadness in her belly for the first time in a while when she hugs him; tight and careful, she tries not to miss her friend too much already. It’s hard because she knows part of him has left her already, after he took down the Firelord, he started to grow up.

____

* * *

____

Her nights are humid and restless, her hair sticks to her neck and temples and her mind wanders to the nerves in her belly, dreading a battle that she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for. She hears the lucidity of Azula’s shrieks against her skull, smell the charred flesh of Zuko and feel her own shallow breaths at the shock of it all. Her thoughts wander somewhere darker too, that she’s weak, the same girl who ferociously grabbed for a man’s heart with strained fingers also cries over her dead mother at night. She cries for the lives she couldn’t save like she did Zuko’s, but she most of all cries over how it eats away at her and no one can talk the sense into her to stop it.

____

It really settled in the day she found out how her and Azula were the same age, she looks at what could have gone wrong. It further settled into the pit of her stomach when she acknowledged what already had.

____

Then there came the night she couldn’t stand it anymore, she knocks on his door; she doesn’t know who else to go to.

____

He opens it hurriedly, with askew hair, tired eyes and a pout. She flushes at the sight of him, doesn’t want to process why. There’s a voice, a feeling again that makes her feel stupid for it, that she’s acting like a little girl. The same little girl who cried for her mother, all begging and too hopeful.

____

When he notices it’s her, he blinks with his mouth agape, crosses his arms quickly over his chest.

____

He says her name in a hoarse tone, almost reaches out when he asks if she’s okay. She wishes he had.

____

“I can’t sleep,” she says.

____

“Me neither,” he admits, looks through her as if she’s made of glass.

____

She sometimes thinks he knows; he knows she’s at the point of breaking when he looks at her like that.

____

He speaks, hesitantly smiling and taking her hand. It’s a soft warmth that she starts to think she needs.

____

“Let me show you something”.

____

He shows her his mother’s garden, shows her parts of himself she appreciates just as much.

____

He speaks to her like an old friend, she speaks to him like he’s the only person in the world who’ll understand.

____

“I keep on thinking about Sozin’s Comet,” she utters, “I feel so guilty”.

____

“It’s hard,” he says low, “when you don’t think you’ve done enough”.

____

She sighs, almost swallows her own tongue.

____

“I should’ve been there,” she chokes, “I should’ve tried to stop it”.

____

He shuffles closer to her at the water’s edge of the pond, he’s quiet, looks at the way the moonlight ripples along the surface.

____

“I’d take lightning for you every time if it meant you’d be okay,” he murmurs.

____

She starts to tread her fingers over the ribbons of the currents, starlight kissing her hands.

____

“I think,” she says, “I cared about you more than being okay”.

____

His head snaps up to meet her eyes now, his mouth a nervous line.

____

Blue stares into amber, she reaches up to touch his left cheek, the tips of her fingers over the familiar dips of scar tissue and hurt. He leans into her, takes in her and the light of the moon. If he could, he’d give her the moon, just like he gave her his life.

____

“I also regret,” she says softly, “leaving you with two scars”.

____

He comes in close, lets himself watch her to see if she’d move away. He tests the gravity between them, the sliver of reason that will always stop it from being too much. He speaks through the painful cracks of memories and the tremors in his very soul.

____

“It’s not the first time I’ve been scarred by a member of my own family Katara,” the way he smiles looks like it hurts him. She realises how tired he looks, how beyond his years he _shouldn’t _.__

______ _ _

She almost chokes, almost spits up bile. The way she understands completely hurts in itself.

______ _ _

She throws herself at him, hugs him and he is warm. She clutches at him tightly, runs shaking hands down his back.

______ _ _

“But,” he breathes, “they aren’t shameful anymore, I’m glad I have them, they’re why I’m still here”

______ _ _

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice muffled into his shirt, “thank you for trusting me”.

______ _ _

“I trust you with my life,” he mutters.

______ _ _

“Sometimes,” she admits, “I don’t feel strong enough to be trusted”.

______ _ _

His hands find her shoulders to keep her at an arms distance, so he can look at her. She slumps forward, looking tired, her eyes soft.

______ _ _

“You’ve always been strong,” he says, “I’ve always admired you for it”.

______ _ _

“Really?” she asks, “always?”

______ _ _

He smiles at her, thinks about her drive whenever she bent, how she fiercely protected those she called family. How he bitterly longed for it when she was the Avatar’s waterbender, how when she became Katara, his friend, she grew beautiful in his eyes because of it.

______ _ _

“Always.”

______ _ _

* * *

______ _ _

He hasn’t been the same since the war’s end, grey is stamped under his eyes, a frown lines his mouth and when she cleans his chest, she can see his ribs.

______ _ _

Seeing him like this gave her more the reason to check up on him at night, sleeping at her chair when he dozes off instead of leaving. She sneaks off in the morning before sunrise, so he doesn’t feel guilty, offering her the bed again.

______ _ _

“Are you going to go back with your brother?” he asks at dusk.

______ _ _

“But what about you?” she finds herself saying without a thought.

______ _ _

He turns to look at her, eyes dull, crinkled with shame.

______ _ _

“I don’t want you to miss home because of me,” he says.

______ _ _

“I can go back whenever I want,” she pushes.

______ _ _

They both stare at each other for a moment, her hands still over his heart.

______ _ _

“But I’m holding you back,” he sighs.

______ _ _

She glares at him, at his stubbornness, at his spluttered heart that she can’t fix.

______ _ _

She echoes words from the past.

______ _ _

“I never turn my back on people that need me,” she utters it, “I’m not going to leave you like this”.

______ _ _

“I don’t need you,” he says,” I can do things on my own”.

______ _ _

She huffs, flings her healing water back into the bowl on the floor.

______ _ _

“I’ll leave if you tell me you don’t want me here,” she looks at anything but him, clenches her fists until her wrists hurt.

______ _ _

“What does that have to do with-“

______ _ _

He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose.

______ _ _

“Of course-“ he says, “of course I want you here, it’s just you shouldn’t be tied here because of what I did”

______ _ _

She snaps her head back to look at him, her cheeks hurt when she frowns.

______ _ _

“Don’t blame yourself for what happened”.

______ _ _

“I don’t,” he says, “but you do”.

______ _ _

She blinks back sudden tears, comes down to rest next to him, staring at the high ceiling.

______ _ _

“I think we’re both struggling right now,” she says, “and you need me just as much as I need you”.

______ _ _

“Why?” he chokes, “the war is over, I’m healed and you have people- a tribe to go back to”

______ _ _

She turns to face him, narrows her eyes.

______ _ _

“Because you’re my friend,” she placates, “and- I know you’re struggling”.

______ _ _

“So, you pity me,” he spits.

______ _ _

“No,” she says, “I care about you”.

______ _ _

“But you don’t need me,” he replies.

______ _ _

“You have no idea how much I do,” her voice trembles.

______ _ _

He falls silent.

______ _ _

“You’re the only one who understands”.

______ _ _

* * *

______ _ _

They have laid there for what’s felt like hours and she’s exhausted.

______ _ _

“Can I stay here tonight?” she asks, her throat swollen and sore.

______ _ _

“In- in my bed?” he gulps, cheeks red.

______ _ _

She nods, flushed because he made her actually think about it.

______ _ _

“It uh, wouldn’t be proper,” he appeases, ducking his head to avoid her stare.

______ _ _

She swats at him, gulps in humid air.

______ _ _

“Don’t be gross,” she squeaks, “we’ve done this before”.

______ _ _

“That was different,” he huffs.

______ _ _

“I’m just,” she sighs, “sick of not being able to sleep”.

______ _ _

She can tell his mood has changed with the way his eyes soften.

______ _ _

He looks at her earnestly, reaches out dangerously to comb his fingers through her hair.

______ _ _

“If you need to,” he hums, “would you like some tea?”

______ _ _

She shakes her head, likes the way he plays with her hair still, albeit tentatively.

______ _ _

This should feel strange, how close he is, how much she likes him touching her.

______ _ _

In her mind, she laughs at how she would have shrieked and waterbended him out the window if he’d done this a few weeks ago.

______ _ _

But she wants it now, just like she wanted him to listen and comfort her in the garden.

______ _ _

* * *

______ _ _

“I think,” he utters, “I love you”

______ _ _

He says it when he’s caved in to holding her, stroking her arms, it’s the middle of the night.

______ _ _

He doesn’t know it, but she can hear him, feel his lips at the shell of her ear kissing skin.

______ _ _

And in her own mind, she says it back.

______ _ _

* * *

______ _ _

They never speak of that night again, but she keeps coming back, she sleeps in his arms and he lets her.

______ _ _

* * *

______ _ _

She wants to help, as she always will, so she starts to attend Summit meetings with her brother. He’s still here because he’s trying to set a trade agreement between the Fire Nation and the South. It’s early, right after the wars end really, but it had to be cemented in the early stages of Zuko’s rule so it could be finalised before all the requests of reparations and land disputes came rushing in, becoming top priority. She smiles at her brother’s diplomacy, the way he carries himself with confidence in front of bumptious, stubborn officials.

______ _ _

“So,” he continues after being interrupted, “the Fire Nation’s spice trade would pick back up again in winter with the grants of our surplus of fish and seafood in the summer, which would helm a high profit margin in a usually slow season”.

______ _ _

“Yes,” the agricultural minister agrees, “but we don’t need fish, we need grain, non-perishables, we need to off sell cheap because our economy is suffering, there’s no market for delicacies”.

______ _ _

She pipes up.

______ _ _

“In the South, we’ve never had a market for delicacies either,” her voice feels powerful, her hands shake, “we have always had to live in rations and scarcely, make our food last with preserving methods and substituting our grains for soups and broths. If we traded fish traditionally prepared, it would be classified as non-perishable, just like your spices”.

______ _ _

He scoffs, “You expect respectable Fire Nation citizens to eat like-“

______ _ _

“Like what?” she challenges, “I wouldn’t say anything further Minister Zhi, both of our nations are the same, we have suffered a one-hundred year war that has made our people generationally starve, with families living on the poverty line a commonality-“

______ _ _

She thinks about how she never felt what a truly full belly was like until she came to the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom, but then she thinks of the thin livestock in towns outside of Caldarda and the starving people in Jang Hui.

______ _ _

“And I know that seafood here is not just a delicacy, but a scarcity, your waters are overfished and the ones that aren’t are polluted. In the South, our waters haven’t been touched by commercial fishing in decades, so there’s plenty to be spared at a cheaper price. I think we can make a compromise on this, along with all the other reasonable propositions Sokka has discussed with you all today”.

______ _ _

“And what about the hospitals?” another one asks.

______ _ _

She looks at Sokka, who gives her a small smirk, he’s telling her to continue.

______ _ _

“Well,” she starts, “we may not have an abundance of medical supplies, but I understand the Fire Nation’s great loss of nurses in the war at the front, so we can compensate with medical knowledge that you can with your herbal remedies”.

______ _ _

Sokka looks at her suddenly, he’s unsure of where she’s going with this now.

______ _ _

“You may be surprised that the Water Tribes are very advanced within the pursuit of medicine, some of us have healing abilities, we use the chi paths to redistribute energy to tissues that are damaged, we can heal a wound that would take weeks in minutes. But we also have non-benders too who could benefit from having access to some of the amazing herbal knowledge the Fire Nation has developed. We can help, we can work together to strengthen both Fire Nation and Water Tribe medical fronts”.

______ _ _

An official sighs.

______ _ _

“You’re so eager to be charitable Master Katara, trade is one thing, but how are we supposed to believe the Water Tribes will want to help heal Fire Nation soldiers?”

______ _ _

“Because I had to do the same thing once,” she says, she looks at Zuko who has not uttered a word for the whole meeting. She looks at him and the puckered left side of his face, the way his hand rests flat over his chest.

______ _ _

“And I’m going to help them understand like I did”.

______ _ _

* * *

______ _ _

“You kicked butt!” Sokka says, nudging her encouragingly.

______ _ _

“Thanks,” she says, she blushes from the adrenaline still pumping through her.

______ _ _

“No seriously,” he replies, “when we get back, you should be on the council. Who knew more than just preachy hope speeches were your thing”?

______ _ _

She punches him for that.

______ _ _

“Ow,” he rubs his bicep, “What I meant was, you’re good at inspiring people”.

______ _ _

“Don’t want to overshadow you in your own craft,” she teases.

______ _ _

“Well,” he smirks, “you get it from somewhere don’t ya?”

______ _ _

“Don’t get too comfortable,” she laughs back, “maybe I’ll hold you to it”

______ _ _

With a chuckle, Sokka reaches around to ruffle her hair, frizzing her usually neat plait.

______ _ _

“Hey,” she huffs.

______ _ _

“Are you gonna come home?” he asks suddenly, “I thought you’d be off with Aang but- you’re still here so”.

______ _ _

“What? Why would you think that?” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

______ _ _

“I don’t know,” he replies nonchalantly, “just thought you wanted to do more of that saving the world crap”.

______ _ _

“We’ve saved the world,” she says, “I think I want to help in more ways than just sorting out internal conflicts and going on mini field trips”.

______ _ _

He shrugs, “sounds fun actually”.

______ _ _

She hums at him, scraping her loose hair loopies out of her eyes.

______ _ _

“I think I might stay here for a bit,” she admits, “I’ll need to keep my promise to the council”.

______ _ _

And Zuko isn’t getting any better, the fact his heart is still so weak makes her stomach churn.

______ _ _

“Right,” Sokka replies, “you sure you wanna be stuck here healing a bunch of jerks?”

______ _ _

Her vision blurs, suddenly the air is too thick, she can’t take a deep enough breath.

______ _ _

“It’s not that simple, I can’t just leave,” she says exacerbated, “he- he was so close to death and now he’s barely surviving and, he doesn’t even know it”.

______ _ _

Sokka gives her that look, he looks just like dad.

______ _ _

“He wouldn’t want you to worry about him too much,” he utters.

______ _ _

“I feel like I’m the only one who does,” she says, “he needs someone looking out for him, just until he’s actually stronger”.

______ _ _

“Well,” Sokka says with a wry smile, “its worth you staying on the council then, make sure they hold up to _their _promises”.__

______ _ _

____

______ _ _

He wriggles his eyebrows, putting an arm over her shoulders. Something in her chest sinks, realises how much she'll miss this, her family.

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

“I’ll come back too,” she smiles, “I miss the cold”.

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

“I know,” he mutters.

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

She doesn’t know why his face scrunches. Why he looks pained, the way he did after mom died.

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

He hugs her tight suddenly, all she sees is blue; blue for her home, for love.

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

“I’m really happy you came back safe,” he falters, his voice teeters on sentimentality, “I owe Zuko just as much as you think you do” .

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

Blue for sacrifice.

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

“Please remember that”.

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

* * *

______ _ _

__

______ _ _

Her brother left yesterday and she is already writing him a letter; how she’ll keep her promises, that she loves him and already misses him, and that she remembers. She writes that she’s been appointed the title Ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe already, that she feels like she’s doing some good planning medical training and healing tent locations. But she doesn’t tell him that she’s starting to feel at home here no matter how much she wants to go back to the South or how she feels like where she’s needed will always be where the sun is in an eternal dance with the moon.

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When she was young, she loved the days in winter when all she saw was the moon. Even though it was dark, cold, bitter and a hard time for the people of the tribe, she loved curling up with her mother at the fire, being told stories with a belly half full of whalebone stew. But when she travelled the world, she saw a balance throughout the days that she grew a comfort to. A day and a night at all times of the year, not just in the middle, Toph’s light snores that woke her up at dawn, sitting cross legged and eager around the fire, slurping congee at dusk. She thought when she first felt the warmth of the sun without snow, that she’d disappear into it.

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Aang writes to her too, how he’s properly exploring the Western Air temples and that Appa likes the dragonberry bushes there. How he’s going to travel up to the Earth Kingdom after, to try and revive Wulong forest after it was scorched, he’ll heal the world of its physical scars starting there. He wishes she was there with him too. She sighs at the thought of scars, ponders about the healed weight of a physical one, but the pain of the ones inside.

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Later, she asks Zuko if his still hurt.

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“A little,” he mumbles, presses a hand firm on his chest, right where his heart would be.

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“No,” she utters, “from when you can’t sleep”.

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“Oh,” he replies dejected, “Katara”.

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She fumbles at the edge of the bed, swallowing a tightness in her throat.

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“Do you,” he says uncertainly, he looks down at the mattress “do you um-“

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“Yes,” she replies abruptly, shuffles over, climbs into his warmth, the comfort he gives so freely.

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In the dark, his hands scrape down her shoulder blades, his lips at her hairline. He slowly kisses her forehead and her nose, but never her lips, she can never see what he looks like when he does. She thinks it’s for the best.

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What gives her comfort and solace when he’s like this is that she can hear his heartbeat, feel it pump blood in his veins, its slow, but still. She can hear his breath when he tells her he’s proud of her, how she’ll fit right in as a part of the council.

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She knows he means it, that she can handle herself, but what she can’t ignore is his guilt. Unresolved tension of how weak he really is and that he knows its not okay no matter how many times she tells him it is. She’s a bad liar and she holds shielded worry like water in her hands.

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He’s weak for her, because of her, the sun swallows her whole, like lightning engulfed his body.

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She asks him if he hates it too; his scar.

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"Every time I look at it," he mutters, "I think of you, and I could never hate you"

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She lets herself touch his middle -her two hands pulled to his blood like some kind of magnet- lets herself make peace with a darker force when she sleeps.

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End file.
